Test his new muscular body
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 6
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Lu stood there, towering at seven feet of impossible perfection, golden hair cascading like molten sunlight over shoulders broader than most doorframes. He looked down—way down—at Charlie, who barely reached his mid-chest even on tiptoe. A slow, wicked grin split his angelic face.
“Well, well,” he purred, voice now a resonant baritone that vibrated pleasantly through the ground itself. “I must say, Princess, I’m rather enjoying the new perspective. You looking up at me like I’m the moon… and me looking down at my favorite little star.” He chuckled—deep, rolling, delighted. “Gravity finally got something right.”
He rolled his shoulders experimentally. The motion sent a ripple across pecs so massive they jutted forward like twin beach balls, completely obscuring his eight-pack and even the tips of his toes when he glanced downward. The shredded remnants of the Hawaiian shirt fluttered uselessly against his lats.
“Ohhh, fuck,” he breathed, eyes fluttering half-closed in shameless pleasure. He flexed the pecs deliberately—slow bounce, then hard squeeze. The slabs jumped, thick striations dancing under skin stretched paper-thin and flawless. “These girls are obscene. I can’t even see my own stomach anymore. Or my feet. How delightfully vulgar.”
Another flex. Friction from the movement—every fiber sliding against its neighbor under that taut, white skin—sent a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. His cock, already half-hard from the transformation, surged thicker, longer, veins pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He groaned low in his throat, hips twitching involuntarily.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, grinning wider. “One wrong move and I’m going to come just from breathing.”
He raised one arm and curled it into a peak. The bicep ballooned—football-sized, then bigger—split by a deep horseshoe tricep and crawling with fat, snaking veins. He turned the arm slowly, admiring the play of light across the golden skin.
“Exquisite,” he whispered, pure narcissistic rapture in his tone. “Utterly, shamelessly exquisite.”
Charlie hadn’t spoken. She simply reached out, small hands trembling, and pressed her palms flat against the wall of his abdomen. Her long, black-tipped fingers traced the razor-sharp crevices between each cobblestone brick of his eight-pack. The skin was fever-hot, almost vibrating, and beneath it she felt something alive—cosmic energy thrumming like a second heartbeat.
She slid her hands upward, reverent, feeling the impossible hardness of obliques that flared into a tiny, cinched waist before exploding outward again into lats wide enough to block the moonlight. She pressed her cheek against one pec; it was warm, unyielding, and smelled faintly of ozone and expensive cologne.
“You look…” Her voice cracked. She tilted her head back, staring up at the bicep he was still flexing. “…so strong now, Daddy. Like… stronger than God.”
Lu’s smile turned predatory.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” he drawled, “I am stronger than God now.”
He turned, eyes scanning the crater rim until they locked on a massive granite boulder—easily six tons—half-buried in the earth from some ancient landslide.
“Let’s test that theory.”
He strode over—each step cracking the ground slightly—and planted both enormous palms against the stone. Fingers dug in. Rock groaned. Tiny fractures spiderwebbed outward from his grip.
With a casual tug—like picking up a suitcase—he wrenched the boulder free. Soil and roots sprayed. He lifted it overhead one-handed, laughing that high, delighted, wicked laugh that used to echo through penthouse suites and now boomed across the mountainside.
“Pathetic little planet,” he sneered. “All that mass… and it still bends for me.”
He squeezed.
The boulder detonated.
Fragments exploded outward in a deadly halo—most vaporized mid-air by the sheer force. Smaller chunks rained harmlessly against his skin like hail on marble. Charlie yelped and dropped to her knees, arms over her head.
Lu didn’t even flinch.
He spread his arms wide, golden hair whipping in the shockwave of his own power.
“Super strength confirmed,” he announced smugly. “And apparently super durability. How convenient.”
Heat bloomed in his core—bright, insistent. The casual display of strength had awakened something deeper. His senses exploded.
He could hear the individual heartbeats of deer three miles away. The rustle of pine needles in the next valley. The low-frequency hum of Havenridge’s power grid far below. His vision sharpened until he could count the individual scales on a hawk circling a mile overhead—even in near-darkness the world blazed with detail, colors impossibly vivid.
He inhaled. Thousands of scents flooded him: pine resin, distant ocean salt, Charlie’s strawberry shampoo, the faint metallic tang of the meteorite’s remnants, the gun oil on the pistols still tucked in the Aston Martin’s glovebox.
For a heartbeat he staggered—overloaded.
Then he mastered it.
Control snapped into place like a switch. The cacophony quieted to background music. He could focus or ignore at will.
“Fascinating,” he murmured.
He flexed his legs—then vanished.
A sonic boom cracked the night. Dust swirled in his wake. He reappeared twenty yards away in the same instant, air rippling around him like heat haze. Another blink—he circled Charlie at impossible speed, creating a miniature cyclone that lifted her ponytail and fluttered her dress.
He stopped in front of her, grinning.
“Supersonic. Adorable.”
He pursed his lips and exhaled.
A gale-force wind roared from his mouth—strong enough to bend saplings and send loose gravel skittering across the overlook.
Then he focused on a distant boulder.
His eyes flared molten gold.
Twin beams lanced out—silent, precise, hotter than the surface of the sun. The boulder glowed white, then split cleanly in half, edges molten and dripping.
Lu laughed again—pure, megalomaniacal joy.
“Laser eyes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I get laser eyes?”
He turned to a nearby pine—thick as a car, roots deep.
One hand wrapped around the trunk.
He pulled.
The tree came free with a wet, ripping sound—earth cascading from the root ball like water. He held it aloft like a trophy, sixty feet of evergreen dangling from his grip.
“Look at this,” he said, voice dripping smug satisfaction. “I used to pay men to carry my luggage. Now I uproot trees for foreplay.”
He tossed the pine aside like a discarded toothpick. It crashed downslope, shaking the ground.
Charlie stared up at him—dress dirt-streaked, eyes shining with something beyond worship. Awe. Hunger. Absolute devotion.
“You’re… you’re *everything* now,” she whispered.
Lu crouched—still towering over her even on one knee—and cupped her chin gently between thumb and forefinger. His touch was warm, electric.
“And you, Little Princess,” he murmured, golden eyes sparkling, “get to keep me all to yourself.”
He leaned closer, breath ghosting across her lips.
“Forever.”
“Well, well,” he purred, voice now a resonant baritone that vibrated pleasantly through the ground itself. “I must say, Princess, I’m rather enjoying the new perspective. You looking up at me like I’m the moon… and me looking down at my favorite little star.” He chuckled—deep, rolling, delighted. “Gravity finally got something right.”
He rolled his shoulders experimentally. The motion sent a ripple across pecs so massive they jutted forward like twin beach balls, completely obscuring his eight-pack and even the tips of his toes when he glanced downward. The shredded remnants of the Hawaiian shirt fluttered uselessly against his lats.
“Ohhh, fuck,” he breathed, eyes fluttering half-closed in shameless pleasure. He flexed the pecs deliberately—slow bounce, then hard squeeze. The slabs jumped, thick striations dancing under skin stretched paper-thin and flawless. “These girls are obscene. I can’t even see my own stomach anymore. Or my feet. How delightfully vulgar.”
Another flex. Friction from the movement—every fiber sliding against its neighbor under that taut, white skin—sent a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to his groin. His cock, already half-hard from the transformation, surged thicker, longer, veins pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He groaned low in his throat, hips twitching involuntarily.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, grinning wider. “One wrong move and I’m going to come just from breathing.”
He raised one arm and curled it into a peak. The bicep ballooned—football-sized, then bigger—split by a deep horseshoe tricep and crawling with fat, snaking veins. He turned the arm slowly, admiring the play of light across the golden skin.
“Exquisite,” he whispered, pure narcissistic rapture in his tone. “Utterly, shamelessly exquisite.”
Charlie hadn’t spoken. She simply reached out, small hands trembling, and pressed her palms flat against the wall of his abdomen. Her long, black-tipped fingers traced the razor-sharp crevices between each cobblestone brick of his eight-pack. The skin was fever-hot, almost vibrating, and beneath it she felt something alive—cosmic energy thrumming like a second heartbeat.
She slid her hands upward, reverent, feeling the impossible hardness of obliques that flared into a tiny, cinched waist before exploding outward again into lats wide enough to block the moonlight. She pressed her cheek against one pec; it was warm, unyielding, and smelled faintly of ozone and expensive cologne.
“You look…” Her voice cracked. She tilted her head back, staring up at the bicep he was still flexing. “…so strong now, Daddy. Like… stronger than God.”
Lu’s smile turned predatory.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” he drawled, “I am stronger than God now.”
He turned, eyes scanning the crater rim until they locked on a massive granite boulder—easily six tons—half-buried in the earth from some ancient landslide.
“Let’s test that theory.”
He strode over—each step cracking the ground slightly—and planted both enormous palms against the stone. Fingers dug in. Rock groaned. Tiny fractures spiderwebbed outward from his grip.
With a casual tug—like picking up a suitcase—he wrenched the boulder free. Soil and roots sprayed. He lifted it overhead one-handed, laughing that high, delighted, wicked laugh that used to echo through penthouse suites and now boomed across the mountainside.
“Pathetic little planet,” he sneered. “All that mass… and it still bends for me.”
He squeezed.
The boulder detonated.
Fragments exploded outward in a deadly halo—most vaporized mid-air by the sheer force. Smaller chunks rained harmlessly against his skin like hail on marble. Charlie yelped and dropped to her knees, arms over her head.
Lu didn’t even flinch.
He spread his arms wide, golden hair whipping in the shockwave of his own power.
“Super strength confirmed,” he announced smugly. “And apparently super durability. How convenient.”
Heat bloomed in his core—bright, insistent. The casual display of strength had awakened something deeper. His senses exploded.
He could hear the individual heartbeats of deer three miles away. The rustle of pine needles in the next valley. The low-frequency hum of Havenridge’s power grid far below. His vision sharpened until he could count the individual scales on a hawk circling a mile overhead—even in near-darkness the world blazed with detail, colors impossibly vivid.
He inhaled. Thousands of scents flooded him: pine resin, distant ocean salt, Charlie’s strawberry shampoo, the faint metallic tang of the meteorite’s remnants, the gun oil on the pistols still tucked in the Aston Martin’s glovebox.
For a heartbeat he staggered—overloaded.
Then he mastered it.
Control snapped into place like a switch. The cacophony quieted to background music. He could focus or ignore at will.
“Fascinating,” he murmured.
He flexed his legs—then vanished.
A sonic boom cracked the night. Dust swirled in his wake. He reappeared twenty yards away in the same instant, air rippling around him like heat haze. Another blink—he circled Charlie at impossible speed, creating a miniature cyclone that lifted her ponytail and fluttered her dress.
He stopped in front of her, grinning.
“Supersonic. Adorable.”
He pursed his lips and exhaled.
A gale-force wind roared from his mouth—strong enough to bend saplings and send loose gravel skittering across the overlook.
Then he focused on a distant boulder.
His eyes flared molten gold.
Twin beams lanced out—silent, precise, hotter than the surface of the sun. The boulder glowed white, then split cleanly in half, edges molten and dripping.
Lu laughed again—pure, megalomaniacal joy.
“Laser eyes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I get laser eyes?”
He turned to a nearby pine—thick as a car, roots deep.
One hand wrapped around the trunk.
He pulled.
The tree came free with a wet, ripping sound—earth cascading from the root ball like water. He held it aloft like a trophy, sixty feet of evergreen dangling from his grip.
“Look at this,” he said, voice dripping smug satisfaction. “I used to pay men to carry my luggage. Now I uproot trees for foreplay.”
He tossed the pine aside like a discarded toothpick. It crashed downslope, shaking the ground.
Charlie stared up at him—dress dirt-streaked, eyes shining with something beyond worship. Awe. Hunger. Absolute devotion.
“You’re… you’re *everything* now,” she whispered.
Lu crouched—still towering over her even on one knee—and cupped her chin gently between thumb and forefinger. His touch was warm, electric.
“And you, Little Princess,” he murmured, golden eyes sparkling, “get to keep me all to yourself.”
He leaned closer, breath ghosting across her lips.
“Forever.”
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June 13
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